Oh what do you do in the summertime?

With the advent of warm, sunny days, it feels like summer is finally upon us. (Not to mention Memorial Day is over, the outdoor pool is open, and schools around the valley are getting out.) In an effort to find fun, cheap things for my kids and I to do, this week we decided to go to a picnic at a local park. I packed lunches, lathered on sunscreen, and we set out. Since the park was a block or so from our house, Andrew opted to walk, and ran ahead of me almost the entire way. Unfortunately, when we arrived, we discovered that I was laboring under a misapprehension: the park in question is adjacent to a school that was still in session, so we weren't allowed to stay. (The school is part of what used to be my old elementary school--but since they'd recently closed the school and torn down most of the middle block, I mistakenly assumed that there was no school currently on the premises. I was wrong.) Andrew, so energetic on the way out, visibly lagged on the way back. We did, however, have lunch in our backyard, with popsicles to finish off our meal, so all was not lost. And we discovered that Evelyn has a definite affinity for the Little Tykes Cozy Coupe car I picked up at a yardsale a couple weeks ago (for $1!). She hasn't figured out how to go forward, but she pushes off with her legs and goes backward with a vengeance. That is, as often as Andrew will let her behind the wheel.

We have been telling Andrew for weeks now that when the outdoor pool opened, we would go--it finally opened, the weather finally was warm enough to swim outside, and I packed up the two kids and went. In retrospect, I consider this a fairly heroic venture on my part--not only did I put on a swimsuit for the first time this year, but I went alone with the kids. However, I hadn't taken into account the fact that Evelyn is starting to assert her independence and is no longer simply content with being held. This meant that I had to try and monitor Andrew as much as possible (despite what he thinks, he isn't big enough to swim unsupervised!), while helping Evelyn walk around the shallower parts of the pool. Next time, I think I'll bring the water wings and an innertube for Evelyn--that will save my hunched over back, and (hopefully), keep Andrew from swallowing quite so much water.

Saturday was our big activity day: Brielle celebrated her second birthday, so we went up to SLC for her birthday party. Since the festivities didn't start until 11, we went to Sarah's house first and hung out for an hour or two, then went to Jared's.

Here's the birthday girl in all her glory. I'm not sure she understood what was going on the whole time, but she certainly understood the concept of opening presents.

The kids all made and decorated party hats: pirate hats for the boys and crowns for the girls. I don't know why I don't have pictures of the girls wearing crowns, but I don't.


Evelyn, of course, pretty much hung out during the whole process. While we were opening presents, Enoch came over and kissed her. It was really cute, so we tried to get him to recreate it, but my camera was too slow. It doesn't look like Evelyn enjoyed the experience too much.

I love this last picture--she has such funny, nose scrunching facial expressions. I apologize for the lack of Andrew pictures--we'll try to post some of him next week.

Tonight was a bit of an adventure (and not in the good sense). Andrew, after initially telling me that he didn't want me to put him to bed, he wanted his daddy to do so, fell apart completely when we made the switch he wanted and started sobbing "Mommy, mommy!" (Napless Sundays are hard: Dan confesses that he dreads the hour from 5:30 until 6:30, when we can put the kids to bed). We didn't want to give in to a tantrum, so Dan started putting him to bed, and I put Evelyn down. Andrew got increasingly hysterical, which made his sister cry, and finally wound himself up to the point at which he puked all over his bedsheets. Lovely. At least he calmed down after that and now both children are slumbering soundly. Meanwhile, laundry (puked on, pooped on, and otherwise dirty) is piling up in anticipation of the arrival of a new washing machine tomorrow. Of course, we'll have to wait in line behind my parents (who are going out of town at the end of the week), but we'll sure be grateful to wash clothes again!

house pictures

I promise--this isn't false advertising. We'll get to the house pictures in a minute. But first, since I've been negligent of pictures lately, two pictures of the kids: Andrew, at the Novell Discovery Park (whatever the official name is) in PG (courtesy of our Saturday trip). Can you tell who dressed him? I'll give you one hint: it wasn't me.

And Miss Evelyn (or "Sissy" as Andrew has taken to calling her--I think because his Bubby always talks to him about "sister"). I found these cute sunglasses in the clearance bins at Gymboree. They're just a big snug about the head, but it turns out that's a good thing: her nose is so small the glasses don't really stay up as it is. (Apparently she gets this from me. Believe it or not, I apparently also had a tiny nose as a baby. Also apparently, it grew.) Can you see her cute teeth? Number five is working its way in on top as we write.


Okay, now for the real post. This is mostly for those of our readers who weren't able to go through the house with us on Monday when we showed it to Dan's parents, sister, and Andrew and Evelyn. Andrew has a slight misapprehension that the furniture comes with the house: he was rather excited about the doll's bed for his dolly (see the pink room below).

When you enter the house, the first thing you see is this nice, light-filled living room.


The living room opens on one side to the dining room (and the door to the back yard). (I have to confess: I think one of the things that sold me on the house was the lovely decorating scheme, which unfortunately I will probably not be able to match, not having the requisite talent or financial means. Although I do mean to try harder than I have thus far in our marriage!)


The dining room in turn opens into a breakfast nook. The door you can just see at the lower left edge of the picture leads down into the basement.


To the right of the entrance, and leading into the breakfast nook, is the kitchen. I love the black and white tiles, although the cabinetry is something we'll probably dream about updating at some point. Also, there's no dishwasher. (Did I mention that the house was built in the fifties?) This is something we hope to rectify before actually moving in.

On the left side of the entry way is a short hallway that leads past the upstairs bathroom. Past the bathroom (no pictures--I couldn't get a decent shot with the smaller size of the bathroom) is the master bedroom.

Turning right by the master bedroom, you come to the smallest of the upstairs bedrooms, currently a baby's room. (We'll probably keep it that way--I do like the mural on the wall and I think Evelyn will too).
At the end of the hallway is what is clearly a princess bedroom, perfect for a little girl. On the left wall (which you can't see in the picture) is a large mirror. Above the mirror is stenciled, "A dream is a wish your heart makes." I'm still torn about what to do with this room--I love the sentiment, but somehow I don't think pink and princess-y fit Andrew. Maybe we'll put him in the current master sweet and I can subject Dan to pink. (Btw: this beautiful bed is for sale--I can put you in touch with the owner if you're interested! :)) You can see at the foot of the bed the cradle that Andrew was so excited about.

This is the first thing you encounter when you come downstairs: A stuffed black bear. It freaked me out the first time I saw the house. Andrew, apparently, wasn't as put off as I was. (The current owner is clearly a hunter--there were several nice (well, nice if you like that kind of thing. I don't particularly) stuffed specimens in the basement, including a cougar over the fireplace. (Not shown).) The door you can see behind Andrew leads to a kind of unusual room. When Dan and I first saw the house, we thought it was just a closet (it was stuffed so full you couldn't see very far into it). This time, the room had been cleared out a little, and we could see that it was actually quite large--about the size of a single car garage. This was actually a pretty big relief to us, since we'd both been trying to figure out where we would store some of the kinds of things that typically get stored in garages and unfinished basements--neither of which this house has. However, we later found out (after the inspector pointed out to us that the room has what appears to be dirt floors and maybe a dirt wall) that the room is actually a kind of root cellar, something that used to be fairly common and is apparently making a come back. In other words, the foundation of the house runs around the room, but the floor is, in fact, dirt. When I first found this out, I was a little weirded out--definitely *not* what I expected. But we talked with the current owners, and they've never had any problems with this space, and, in fact, it could be an ideal place to keep food storage, especially fruits and vegetables.

Off to the left of where Andrew stands in the picture is the downstairs bathroom; behind me are the stairs going up; to the left of the stairs (my left as I face Andrew here) is a laundry room/pantry with enough space to put in a table for sewing (if desired).

On the other side of the stairs is a small office/fourth bedroom (photo not included b/c it's currently used as an office and is mostly full of uninteresting office furniture). And then, of course, there's a family room downstairs--currently full of hunting trophies.

Last photo: here's a view of the backyard from the upstairs living room (through the glass, hence the poor quality). You can kind of see a swing-set behind the bushes in the foreground--the owners have offered to leave the swing set, which we think is great. In the left corner is a garden spot. There is also a peach tree in the back--much to Bubby's delight. We're just hoping she's willing to come pick peaches for us.


And that's the house we're hoping to buy at the end of next month. The inspector and appraiser have both been in this week, so things are moving along. It's an older home, so of course it will need some updates, but all in all, we're pretty pleased with it. The best part, for Dan: it's less than a block from work.

Just a quick update

I'll try to add pictures later, but, since I know I won't have time to update the blog this evening (we are heading down to Cedar City after church for memorial day), I thought I'd take a minute now and do so.

There's not really a lot to report from this week, except that it was busy. Several months ago I agreed to help with some Writing Across the Curriculum workshops at BYU that fell this week. All told, there were six workshops (three of which I taught). I've spent the last several weeks accumulating material, creating packets and powerpoints, etc., to present on the following topics: teaching and evaluating oral and visual communication; helping students better integrate their research into research papers; and evaluating papers fairly and consistently. As is typical of teaching, I think I learned more than the faculty I went in to teach, but almost everyone seemed to find the workshops helpful--especially the opportunity to exchange teaching tips and strategies with one another. What never ceases to surprise me is how easily these professors take me at face value--I continue to feel like I'm somewhat of a charlatan: I know I have a PhD and that this is supposed to be my field, but I keep expecting someone to expose me for the ignoramus I so often feel like I am. So far, that hasn't happened. But I'm starting to learn (mostly from talking to other faculty) that this fraudulent feeling is actually pretty common, and, unfortunately, doesn't necessarily go away when you've been in the field longer. I suppose working in your field is actually sort of a continuation of the negative learning process of graduate school: the more you learn, the more you realize you don't know, so comparatively, the less you feel like you know! (see appropriate PhD comic here.)

Of course, since these workshops effectively took up a fair portion of my time the first part of the week (grandma kindly watched my kids), we didn't do much of anything fun until the weekend. On Friday, I took Andrew and Evelyn to a local park and watched Andrew make instant friends with the charming ease of small children. On Saturday, we did more of the same: I took Andrew to Discovery park again to meet up with some friends of mine (Evelyn stayed home with her dad). That afternoon, we took the kids to furniture stores to look at furniture (since we currently have little more than beds and bookshelves) and learned two important lessons. Lesson one: never bring a tired three-year-old anywhere public where he can climb on things. Lesson two: Dan is strangely hard to please when it comes to furniture. Ironically, after pooh-poohing all the couches we saw in the furniture stores, we checked out a set listed on craigslist that night and bought it. Or at least, agreed to buy it when we can figure out how to move it! :) (We did leave a deposit.)

And that's pretty much it for this week. Things continue to move forward with the house--the loan is in process, we've got an inspector coming next week, and we're looking into insurance. This is slowly but surely starting to seem real.

Maybe next week we can actually post pictures of the house!

(Un)bated breath

Since no one really wants to read about my psychological issues regarding house-hunting (seriously, who knew it could be this traumatizing, even when things go well?), we'll skip forthwith to the meatier portion of the blog: i.e., what we've been up to.

You already know about our quick trip to Cedar City.

Tuesday, Evelyn had her 12 month appointment at the doctors, where we learned that she hasn't grown much in the last 3 months (less than an inch, and less than a pound), so she has now dropped down to the 50th percentile for height and weight (although, in true Collings fashion, her head remains solidly in the 95th percentile). The doctor didn't seem much concerned about this, as she's clearly not wasting away, but I can't help worrying that it is somehow my fault.

Then of course, she came down with a mild fever after all her vaccinations, so we kept close to home for a day or two.

(Incidentally, this isn't the most flattering picture, but I do like that you can see all four of her teeth. And no, the "dent" part of "incidentally" wasn't deliberate.)

On Friday, we ventured out again, this time to Saratoga Springs to visit a friend of mine who just had a baby, born 4.5 weeks early (echoes of Evelyn last year). Only her baby also required immediate surgery (her esophagus didn't connect--the top part dead-ended and the bottom part had attached to the trachea. Luckily, the corrective surgery seems to have gone well and she has no other birth defects). She's now in Primary Children's hospital. Since I still have a fairly vivid memory of what it was like to have a preemie in the hospital, I wanted to do what little I could to help out: in this case, donating all of Evelyn's preemie clothes. My friend seemed to appreciate it, since, like me, she was woefully unprepared for the early advent of her baby (this was her first, and the baby came before her family and friends baby showers).

Afterward, we stopped at the Discovery Park in Pleasant Grove (I'd heard about it, but never been there) and it was *amazing.* I wish I'd discovered it sooner--it's built along the same lines as the Discovery Park in Cedar City, but, if anything, even bigger. Andrew loved it, but we think it would have been even more fun with friends or cousins (a not so subtle invitation for those of you readers who fall into this category).

Saturday, as always, was a busy day. I left the house before 7 to try going to some yard sales--with reminiscent echoes of successful yard saling in State College, I even mapped out a route before I left. While I did find a few things (a Little Tikes Cozy Coupe for $1--old and sun faded, but still functional), it was pretty disappointing. I had heard that yard saling in Utah was generally not worth it, but this confirmation was still a let down.

After I got home, Dan and I swapped kids and he went to work to make up for Monday's hookey. I took the kids to the Library's Book Fair and Book Sale. We came home with a bag of cheap books and a couple of free ones (courtesy of the book fair). We tried going to some of the booths at the Fair, but Andrew didn't exactly know what was going on. He did seem to enjoy the puppet shows. And--extra bonus--I ran into Mrs. Brown, my favorite English teacher from high school. It was kind of nice to be able to tell her that I have a PhD in English--especially since she had at least something to do with my fondness for the subject. I also saw Jessica Day George (one of several fantasy and YA authors invited to the Book Fair, but I didn't think Andrew would be interested in the discussion on writing fantasy for young readers that was going on in a nearby room, so I didn't even bother trying to get into the crowded space). I'm now pretty sure that I knew her somehow at BYU (we were English majors there at the same time, and she looks really familiar--and not just because she's now sort of famous), but I didn't really get a chance to ask her about that.

Overall, I think the fair was a good experience, but it certainly ended unfortunately. Some little kid pulled the fire alarm, and, after trying to ignore it for a while (the library workers announced that it wasn't a real alarm, and they were working on getting it turned off), Andrew finally started crying that his ears hurt, so we left. But we did have a salutary little discussion on why it's not good to pull the fire alarm (because then other little kids ears might get hurt--Andrew's observation, not mine).

That afternoon, we went up to Sarah's, to a carnival put on by her stake. It was pretty fun for the kids--they had lots of little games, a bounce house, snow cones, etc.--and we got free food out of it, so I thought it was a fair trade for the drive. Dan's customary grumpiness at large group events came out in force (he refused to get anything to eat, although he did help Andrew with his dinner), so we left soon after dinner to help Sarah set up the Primary room for church today. And then drove home with two tired but (I think) happy kids.

Today was stake conference. Since it didn't start until two and we were trying to keep Andrew entertained, I pulled out some finger paints. Andrew loved them, although I did end up with footprints on the kitchen floor (luckily, the paint was washable).

I wish I could say the same for stake conference. The speakers, what little I heard of them, were quite good, but keeping a napless three-year-old confined and quiet for two hours nearly defeated Dan and I combined. Well, we may actually have been able to deal with just Andrew, but the meeting was in the old Provo Tabernacle, which, while beautiful, is not exactly well ventilated. The increasing heat was probably the final undoing factor. Andrew's response to the closing prayer pretty much sums up our experience: "It's over! Hooray!"

Reasoning John Cleese could be proud of

Here is the rough transcript of a conversation I just had with Andrew:

"Andrew, did you just hit your sister with your axe?" (Plastic, but still . . .)

"Yes."

Upon said confession, axe was duly confiscated and I tried to talk to my teary-eyed boy.

"Why did you hit her?"

"I was just chopping wood."

"Is Evelyn made out of wood?"

"I didn't realize she wasn't made out of wood. It was an accident."

(A witch? Anyone?)

The third time is the charm

So, on Monday we headed down to Cedar City yet again for a blitz house-shopping trip. (We left just before 7 a.m. and were back in Provo just before 8 p.m.) Our realtor told us that a house we wanted to check out probably wouldn't be on the market much longer, since the price had just dropped considerably, so we went down right away.

As it happens, Dan didn't like that particular house so much. But we think we've found on that we *do* like--and this time, our bid has actually been accepted! The house is older than many that we've looked at (it was built in the 50s), but it's in a beautiful area of Cedar City close to downtown and--what I think was key for Dan--it's less than a block from the university, so we wouldn't need a second car to get him to and from work in the winter. It's a cute little red brick house in excellent condition--beautiful hardwood floors, big windows in the family room, a pretty black-and-white tile kitchen, and a lovely garden mural in the baby's room. There are only two drawbacks: no garage (but then, less than half of the houses on the street have garages--has to do with the age of the house, I think), just a carport; and no master bath (again, a factor of the house). But, since Dan and I have never actually had a master bathroom in the history of our marriage, that wasn't a deal breaker. For the rest, the house seems to have been recently remodelled--the paint is all contemporary, the basement is finished with new carpet, and, if it isn't quite as spacious as some houses we looked at, it still has plenty of space for our little family (with some room to grow), and what it lacks in space it more than makes up for in charm. You can see some pictures of the house here.

Dan's cousin Jodi saved us while we were there, by agreeing on short notice to watch Andrew, who had a blast running around with her three boys. The oldest, Kade, observed to his mom that he thought Andrew was "cute," but that he talked funny, "like a grownup." That's our Andrew!

Happy Birthday Evelyn!

One year ago today, early in the morning, this little girl was born unexpectedly--almost a full five weeks early. You'd never know that today to look at her, though. And we have loved (almost) every minute of being with her.

Of course, for a first birthday, we had to have a party--we tried to keep it small, but even with just cousins present, we still had a lot of people around! (The grandparents, ironically, were all out of the state--my parents were enroute to a cruise in Alaska; Dan's parents were in the South Pacific. But I suppose that when you're the 9th and 5th grandchild respectively, your birthday is no longer quite the occasion!)

I may have overdone things just a little. But I found some great ideas from this month's Family Fun magazine, on a Mother's Day teaparty, that we adapted to a party for Evelyn. First, of course, we had to make some fabulous wrapping paper hats.




Jared and I were the only grown-ups to make hats--I must say he looks quite impressive in his.



And then, of course, we had to have food. And lots of it. Dan made macaroni and cheese (a gourmet version!) while I fussed with the cupcakes, which were the floral centerpiece for our table. The cupcake recipe I tried was pretty easy to make, but they were almost sweet enough to kill you. I took the leftovers to the women I visit teach--hopefully the cupcakes are pretty enough that my friends will forgive me the excessive sweetness!

And of course, no tea party is complete without tea sandwiches.

Last, but not least, another kind of cake--a jello "stained glass" cake, made mostly with jello and whipped cream and a graham cracker crust. This one got a much more positive review from tasters. (Of course, like everything we've tried from Cook's Country, it was excellent, if not as pretty as the original).


Because of the surfeit of food (I am, after all, my mother's daughter!), we waited to have cupcakes and cake until after opening presents. I don't think Evelyn really knew what was going on, but she had lots of cousins (and an over-active brother) waiting in the wings to help her open--and then play with--her toys. (In fact, it's been a constant battle to get Andrew to let her play with her own toys).

You'd think, here, that it was my birthday--who looks more excited here, me or Evelyn? But lots of thanks to Bubby and Poppy for the cute walker. Evelyn can actually stand up with it!


And, of course, the requisite cupcake shot. I don't think she actually managed to eat any of her cupcake--but she did manage to get it smeared all over her face and hair (a later shot, with crumbs on her head, didn't turn out as well. But check out the videos to see her in action.)


As you can see, she wasn't quite sure what to do with the cupcake at first.



She gradually warmed up to the idea of squishing it, although she never did eat it.

Celebrating one year

Later today, I'll post pictures of Evelyn's birthday party yesterday, but for today, I want to indulge myself by posting some of my favorite pictures of Evelyn over the past year. It's funny to me that both my kids have been born on pseudo-holidays: Andrew on Christmas Eve, Evelyn on Mother's Day Eve. And this year, her first birthday falls on Mother's Day. What a perfect Mother's Day gift! She has been--as I imagine most children are to their mother's--infinitely precious to me.

But I cannot believe that we have already come from this:



To this:



Such a sweet, sassy, funny little girl!

Addendum

Fairness compels me to add a little bit more to Wednesday's post. Yesterday, our realtor sent Dan an email saying that Citibank would be willing to give us another week, and our lender seemed confident that we could do everything in that time. However, after thinking things over (we weren't entirely happy with the location of the house--something we hadn't really thought about when we placed the bid) we've decided to move on anyway. Wish us luck! I'm hoping we actually will find something we like better--I'd hate to spend so much money and then keep wishing I could have done better.

Why we officially hate Citibank: Or, the ups and downs of the modern real estate search

So, today has been . . . quite a day.

This morning we found out that the bid we had placed on the house we saw last weekend was not accepted. (Well, to be fair, the sellers accepted the bid that they received just prior to ours.) So that was pretty disappointing. The problem with buying a house (as most of you know!) is that you spend all this time envisioning how you would fit your life around that house, so having to dismantle that vision is difficult.

*Then* we found out that the second mortgage lender on the first bid (the one we placed back in March and had finally, reluctantly, given up on ever hearing back from . . . the contract was long since void, and anyway, time was moving on) had actually *accepted* our bid. A week ago, this would have been cause for much rejoicing. Now, however, it merely stressed me out, since we now had a very limited window to decide if we still wanted that house. Dan was pretty sure he did; me, since I had seen something I liked better, wasn't so sure. (Don't get me wrong, I still like the house, I just wanted more time to weigh our options).

(I keep wanting to compare house-hunting to spouse hunting, and I've been having some anxiety at the idea of "two-timing" any given prospect. Silly, I know, but it's the only other large *investment* I've made in my life).

Anyway, to go back to our story. This is how things stood at the end of the day: we were more or less prepared to move on the bid--Dan had contacted our lender, and I was getting ready to call some appraisers, but we'd asked our realtor to hold off on delivering the earnest money until we found out from the lender if the deadline for closing was reasonable. It's a good thing we did, since the lender told us that we might be able to make the deadline (it was possible, but not probable), but only if everything went smoothly--if it got held up at any one point, we wouldn't make the deadline. But here's the catch (and the point of this post): Citibank, the second mortgage holder who had been holding up the show by not responding to our bid, stipulated in the contract that if we *don't* make that deadline, we're liable for 10% of what they're owed (which would be nearly $10,000 in this case). And, since *they* were the ones dragging their feet, now *we* were going to be the ones held responsible. We can't help wondering somewhat cynically if this feet-dragging was done deliberately, as a way to recoup some of their losses since we'd bid lower than the asking price for the house.

Needless to say, we're not exactly happy about this. (Well, truth be told, I'm strangely relieved, but Dan was irate . . . moving rapidly towards disenchanted). At any rate, Citibank has now officially lost our current and future business. (And hopefully that of many of our discerning readers).

So, it's back into the market.

Sigh.

The world is my oyster

Well, Andrew's anyway. Apparently.

Tonight, at bedtime, I was just getting ready to put Evelyn to bed when Andrew, with that total oblivion of children, blundered right through the middle of my preparations. (Specifically, he climbed right over the blanket I had just laid out on the bed to wrap her in.) After telling him why I was annoyed by this, I added, with some asperity, "The world isn't your oyster, Andrew."

Responded my self-confident three-year-old: "Why not?"

The hazards of hope

I know hope is supposed to be a positive thing, a profound power that propels us forward in life and faith. And certainly, without hope, life would be a lot less worthwhile. Dieter F. Uchtdorf talks about the "infinite" power of hope. Barack Obama describes its audacity. And Emily Dickinson describes it as a thing with feathers, perching in her soul.

But sometimes hope is painful. Like right now--this small little knot of hope feels less like a canary, singing on the top of the world, and more like a vulture, waiting for the last flickers of life to die out before circling in to feed.

Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier not to hope. Like, for instance, when you sit, waiting, for the announcement of an award for a competition you've entered, knowing that the odds are against you, but still unable to still that sad, halting limp of hope.

Or when you have one of those hopeless adolescent (or not-so-adolescent) crushes on a boy (or girl, depending) who barely notices you, and, against all reason, you hope.

Or finding a house you like, and then finding that someone else has put in a bid before you . . . the odds aren't good, but, since there's still a chance (no matter how infinitesimal), you can't seem to help yourself.

At times like these, I can only conclude: Hope sucks. I'd much rather be resigned and invulnerable.

Life as we know it

The events of this past week lay under a haze of "blah" in my memory--a sure sign of the fallibility of memory, since I know several good things *did* happen this week. (I think my memory is being affected by the cold I contracted from Evelyn).

Mostly, this week was business as usual. But a few highlights: Dan and I were able to go to the temple Wednesday night--a nice reprieve.

Thursday, the wild hordes descended upon our house (i.e. two aunts, a cousin, and a cousin-in-law) for Women's Conference. Apparently, they enjoyed it, although from my perspective they--especially my cousin-in-law (who has lots of little kids at home and doesn't get to pamper herself much)--seemed to enjoy the shopping just as much.

On Friday, around lunch-time, we headed down south to CC once again. House-hunting, again. For those of you interested in our little drama, we put a bid in on a house about six weeks ago--they were supposed to have given us a final decision three weeks ago, and still no word. To be fair, the owners and the first mortgage holder accepted our bid. But the third party is still incommunicado, so we decided, reluctantly, that we needed to start looking again, since we'd like to have everything settled and ready to go by the end of next month. And we had to go down this weekend, since Bubby and Poppy are (even as we write) enroute to Rarotonga (in the Cook Islands, for those of you, like me, whose knowledge of the South Pacific is a bit hazy) and then on to New Zealand and Australia. They left today and will be gone for the better part of a month, so this was out last chance to combine house hunting with a visit to the grandparents for some time.

I *think* we may have even found a house we like, in our price range and in a neighborhood we like. (Well, we should--it's only a block or two away from Bubby and Poppy's house!) But that's all I'll say about it, since I'm reluctant to jinx myself by putting too much hope into anything at this point. I know everyone says it's a buyers market just now, but this particular house just went on the market, and our realtor predicts it will be gone within two weeks. (Which says something about the house!)

Anyway, we will keep you posted. (One thing you can always count on from us--more information than you probably wanted to know about the mundane details of our lives!)

In the meantime, here's a picture of Evelyn giving her doll "loves"--which for some reason mostly involves trying to bite and/or lick the top of the poor dolls head. Nonetheless, it's certainly a sign that she is slowly moving from babyhood toward toddlerhood. We discovered this weekend that she will respond to simple commands (patty-cake, hello) with appropriate actions--I think she's probably been capable of doing this for a little while, but her mom's a little slow in recognizing her capabilities.